


Forsaken At Heart

by Neptunefallen



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Abuse, Biting, Cheating, Dom/sub, F/M, Gen, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Licking, Light BDSM, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Necrophilia, Other, Past Sexual Abuse, Racism, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Taboo, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Abuse, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neptunefallen/pseuds/Neptunefallen
Summary: Atalia is a Forsaken who is aligned with Dalaran, if she had to choose- she’d choose Alliance- she’s lived there for 16 years after all. She is an apprentice Arcane mage of the Kirin Tor trying to find her way as the Legion is invading… Unfortunately she finds herself tangling with people she’d never imagined meeting, and it changes her life forever. As an undead she never thought she’d have romance, drama, or such horror as this.





	1. Fjarnskaggl

A/N: Pulled a lot from real life on this… which is unfortunate lol. Been going thru dark stuff lately, so I put it into words.

 

NOTE ON TIMELINE: _This takes place early on in Legion!!!_

 

This was written after reading the WoW book Before the Storm. It really gave perspective on characters. If you haven’t read it, give it a read!! (maybe after this!) it takes place before anything in the book, it is semi-non-canon, but atm reading it you could so see it having taken place given reactions you read in the book. For fun I will add a snippet at the end of Ch 2 for those who haven’t had the pleasure.

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or any of the WoW characters, story, world, or stuff within I and I make no money from this. OCs are mine.

 

 

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“...There is no meaning in death. That’s why it’s so terrifying.” Henry Winkler -Bojack Horseman

 

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Atalia Darkridge picked her way carefully through the desolate landscape of Stormheim. She had a large satchell already bursting with herbs, but the sun was still not yet set, and she decided she could manage to fit a few more inside the bag. She paused atop a large rock to scour the landscape with her eyes and put her hands onto her lower back. One thing that she was grateful for about the curse of Undeath was that it had stopped her from sweating ever again, but her back ached a bit as she stood very straight, rubbing the small of it, through her cloak. She must have been hunching over without realizing it… which she had realized and then only hunched back down to pick plants. And then realized that she was hunching and stopped it again, or so she had thought. The dull ache in her back suggested otherwise... Her clothes were all concealed by her plain gray cloak, except her black leather gloves, because her arms were poking through her cloak. Underneath she had a thin gray cotton shirt with a bra-like armor chest-piece of dark blue trimmed in gold over it. She wore pants that were also dark blue with a black and gold belt and her bejeweled spell knife on it of blue metal and gold on the hilt. She had armor on her knees partly to protect, partly to simply protect herself from herself if she were to merely fall on the terrain, and they were of a plain gray metal lined with gold. Normally she didn’t wear her armor out, but out in Stormheim there were many dangerous creatures, so she had to be prepared.

 

While she rubbed her back, her unusual glowing green eyes scanned her surroundings and she grinned as she spotted some more Fjarnskaggl and beside it some _Felwort_. She took out her herb knife and hopped down the hillside in the shadows of a large cliff. Deftly she bent and cut the two plants at their bases of their stems and stuffed them with the other plants into the bag hanging off her shoulder, before standing upright again with a sigh. She replaced the knife into a little hoop on the satchel and then ran a hand through her curly dark red hair.

 

Unlike most Forsaken, Atalia’s hair was relatively… well soft and untangled, considerably undamaged, and clean. She was actually able to brush or comb it. Her pale skin was closer to very light blue than most other of her kinds grays or greens and it was also more intact than most others of her kind, as she was not missing pieces of her body, chunks, or even small spots of flesh. Upon death her body had been had been preserved. It had also made it easier for the Forsaken’s liquid’s to be added, giving her her new palor.Other Forsaken had to be more careful that their skin might tear, but hers was actually supple and had give to it, much like many of the ranger’s or Death Guard. It was something that she was grateful for. It had been terrifying when she had seen a man tear a finger off his hand only a day after she had been Reborn. Later it was explained to her that she would probably have a little more endurance with things because of her body’s aftercare… despite that she had been dead for some time.

 

She hadn’t understood why many so around simply didn’t simply just wash their hair of the matted blood, dirt, and ichor, and try to brush out the knots… But she supposed that if some tried to comb out knots their skin was so delicate it could actually tear chunks out of their scalps. It didn’t excuse why they couldn’t wash their hair, though… But the deep depression about the state of their body they had come to accept…. Surrounded by rotting bodies that weren’t just that, but people who were choosing to be dirty and sad… Not to mention the Forsaken who had become cruel and hateful upon their Rebirth. And in Undercity the water itself was completely polluted and filthy… so where would one get fresh water to clean off anyway? The entire place smelled terrible, too, literally of sewage, often, despite the lack of Forsaken using toilet often any longer… So Atalia could not stand it... She had to leave… so she did and began to travel to find places that she would be accepted in her new world… And she found that one place was actually a place she’d wanted to go to for a long time, and one she’d lived at before, Dalaran. Her favorite place that she ever had, she went to live...

 

Occasionally she forrayed away from it… she had lived 16 years as a human and now just over 3 in this new life. Emerald eyes studied the landscape for more plants as she rubbed her back. The sun was lower, but her bag was full, perhaps she should head back to her encampment now… she considered. Then she saw it, a shadowy shape near the cliff’s bottom, behind some rocks: and so she headed off towards it. Deftly she dodged jagged rocks as she reached it and saw what it was… It was… furry… with dark clothes.

 

Something with white fur and dark clothes, she realized quickly that it was a large male Worgen. There had been a few in the area, but she hadn’t expected to find one dead… The clothes were dark brown, trimmed in silver, but she could make out the blood still. _Is he dead?_ She wondered, sighed, and then carefully, _bravely_ , leaned over the beast and rolled him over onto his back.

 

Then she could see it; his chest was indeed still rising up and down, _slightly_. His dark coat had was missing an arm and it had white in the middle that was clearly stained red with a lot of blood there... She felt relief that he was still alive. He’d lost a lot more blood than she thought at first glance. Despite that he was supposedly her enemy, the silly faction disputes felt very far removed in Dalaran, Atalia felt an urge to help him… Besides, she had lived most of her life as a citizen of Alliance lands while alive. What to do with him to actually help though was difficult...

 

“Oh… I should get you to my camp so I can help…” It seemed the best idea for the moment. True, as a mage she could open portals, but she only knew a handful of portals that lead to places that were non-aligned to factions. If she were to show up to such a place with a gravely injured Worgen Atalia had concerns that guards might think the wrong thing, too… She decided it best perhaps to tend to his wounds at her camp physically with what she had on hand before taking him anywhere, that would be the wisest course.

 

Her hearthstones had been stupidly left behind in Dalaran, she had hiked the entire way here from a flight point, because she loved the scenery. The idea was that she needed a break from her studies and the hiking and gathering herbs for a couple days would be just the thing. Having a hearthstone would have been a temptation to rush back to life in the city. In retrospect it hadn’t been the wisest move, but she had needed the space for equipment and for her herbs…

 

Atalia grit her teeth before moving so she was near the head of the lupine man and then turned her back to him and squatted. She then tried to get her arms underneath his and raise his body off the ground slightly, so she could drag him.. She just barely managed to do so, only about four feet of him supported on her, the rest dragged on the ground. He was somewhat on her back, but at an absurd angle. If anyone would come upon it, it looked silly. Worgen were just too large...  Fortunately her concern for the man that she was...hauling let her manage the physical struggle with dragging him back to her campsite. Atalia still bit out several curses about his size along the way though, wishing that he could have been a couple feet shorter and perhaps several pounds lighter, too.

 

Once they arrived she let him down on her bedroll inside her low tent and she then went to the second largest bag that she had. Inside were some potions and bandages, the bandages more for others aid than her, and she smiled. She had packed a single roll of each, _just in case_ , after all they didn’t take up much room. Atalia usually brought such things with her whenever she went out on trips lasting longer than a few hours. She began to dig the tools of her minor healing trade out, pulling out rolls of bandages, water, and a healing potion. The netherweave and cotton and water in her left hand and a strong healing potion in her right she then took the herb dagger under an arm, to cut the bandages to size, before turning around and scooting over to the patient.

 

He was soundly out, but still breathing lightly. A bluish blush crossed her face as she studied his face and found it somewhat handsome despite it being in Worgen form, it was rugged and masculine, and she just liked how he looked with the hair falling softly to the side as he lie there… Now that she studied him, she realized that on his head the fur and hair was actually a very light gray nearing the top of his head, and even darker in other areas, adding a gradient and depth that was actually something she’d found really beautiful and cool. The Worgen’s longer hair that hung down past either side of his jaw was contained in four neat braids in total with big intricately designed metal rings near the ends that bound them. He had hooped silver earrings pierced near the base of his left ear and another loop in the middle on both ears… A thick metal ring was snugly fit around his top left fang, which was protruding and extremely large and sharp… Even the two smaller fangs from his bottom jaw were visible and their length and sharpness were intimidating. His chest broad chest rose and fell a couple more times and she realized that the brown coat he wore was very well-fitted, meaning that the size she was gazing down at was pure muscle. Along with the sharp claws on each of his four fingers on his brown-gloved hands, she realized that this Worgen didn’t need a weapon to kill if he were well and healthy.

 

Quickly she tore off her own fingerless leather gloves, so she could better deal with her patient. Biting her blue lip nervously, Atalia began to undress the man by taking off his soft leather gloves. There was a bit of dried blood on them, she couldn’t guess if it was his or not as it was on them, but beneath them his hands were unharmed so she guessed it might not be his… His claws and white fingers had blood on them, so perhaps it belonged to one of the people or things who had done this to him. She carefully undid the belt that was strung across his coat next. With that done, she loosened his pauldrons, which were loose and more like part of his cloak, and she then let his pauldrons and cloak fall back onto the bedroll.

 

Atalia then began to work on unbuttoning his coat, her hands working the silver buttons carefully and her brows knitted together in concern. The blood was mostly visible where her hands were now passing, as the white was in the center of his coat, and once it finally came open she found a formal white shirt underneath stained with even more blood, a lot more of it. She also could see some of the main wounds through the it...There were several. She gasped. How had he managed to still be breathing? Carefully and slowly she sat him into an upright position so she could remove his coat and as she began to pull it off of him he slumped forward slightly into her, his face nearing her chest which made her blush furiously. The Forsaken tossed his dark brown coat to her left and then took a deep breath before setting the man on his back again. She carefully began to unbutton his shirt, a few of the buttons slipping from her fingers from blood, and she frowned. Atalia then sat him back upright again to remove his shirt and to examine his abdomen for wounds. This time she blushed without his face nearing her chest simply because his shirt came off...

 

She’d seen men topless while they were physically training, sure, and before while attending to  wounds, but never alone before like this. Her face was somewhat flushed by the time she managed to get his shirt off and have him lying back down. She cautiously waved her hand in front of his face to see that he was still asleep. Atalia began to visibly examine him again now that his shirt was off and tried to shake off that vague attraction to the wounded man who was now shirtless, too.

 

Now that he was without a top she could see his white fur was stained with red blood on the left area of his chest, his right shoulder, and his left ribs had a particularly long gash… She could guess that one wound was an arrow perhaps, another a dagger, but others she was unsure. On his side perhaps a poison? She cut several strips of cotton before she did anything else. Atalia grabbed the water and poured it over the gash first and then went over each other area. Rinsing and then wiping with dry cotton, soon his fur was mostly clean except immediately around the site of the wounds. She then took out the potion that she had and carefully applied it to the cotton and put it onto the gash. Normally a person would react, but the man was still and silent. Atalia frowned and continued to apply the potion to other sites….

 

Soon potion was in all the wounds she could see and she began to cut the netherweave to size so she could put it directly on the wounds. Once she pressed the netherweave down into the wounds, Atalia had to get him into a slumped sitting position again and had him awkwardly leaning forward a bit against her. She then wrapped cotton over the netherweave, going around his torso, letting the cotton bandages hold the magical bandages in place. Eventually she finished wrapping bandages around him and laid him back down, leaving the wound on his shoulder, which she could handle with him on his back, last. Again she put the cotton over the netherweave she had placed, and wrapped it around his shoulder and under his powerful, muscular arm… Then she finally sat up straight and moved away from him a bit and she sighed  while stretching. She had been applying care for at least a couple hours by this point. Cleaning his wounds to finally wrapping them had taken a lot of time. When she finally turned around to go and make a fire it was apparent that darkness had truly fallen. The young woman had failed to notice that the man’s eyes had actually opened as she turned her back on him.

 

He had awoken a while ago… He was aware first of all that he was alive. The severe pain in his shoulder and, well, all over was a good indication of that. The Worgen was a careful man, strategic; that was how he was still alive at his age. He kept his eyes closed at first, as he had immediately felt someone pressing something into his wounds, he tried to breathe easy and feign sleep. Someone was tending to them and he figured that it would be best to observe for a while before doing anything rash. He smelled the air, and what he smelled caused a cold knot to form in the pit of his stomach. The scent of roses and some sort of sweet herb was in the air, and female… but it was the undertones that bothered him; the faint scent of death and ichor hung in the air, which meant Forsaken… As he felt the woman move away he waited a moment before cracking an eye slightly open.

 

Long curly dark red hair curtained the woman’s shoulders, hiding her face from view and shielding any possible skin on her face down to just past her elbow from being seen… The dark crimson locks looked silky to the touch, not anything like usual undead hair. Then he noticed her bare hand peeking from the sleeve of her gray shirt and saw the eerie pale skin... _she really was undead_ …

 

 _A reanimated corpse was helping him. Why is she doing this?_ Thoughts ran through his head. Along with a slight disgust that such an abomination to the Light and all that was Holy had been touching him... Perhaps she had saved him to bring him back to Undercity once he was stable? He could try to wait for a good moment to attack her and then attempt to get away… He wouldn’t let himself be held captive! But, he was a careful man, and still quite injured, so he waited as the potion that stung his injuries was taking its effect and he pretended to be asleep while she continued to … it seemed to possibly start a fire?

 

Atalia set some wood ablaze with a spell and then put some water into a kettle over it. Unlike most Forsaken, she enjoyed some things such as drinking tea, partially due to her personality and also in part to an elixir that helped her imbibe edible substances on a regular basis. She figured that the man might find comfort in the warmth of fire and tea besides she, herself, finding comfort in the familiarity of them. The fire was just outside the tent and once she got it started she smiled and glanced back to her assumed sleeping patient. He seemed to be alright so she carefully and mindfully crawled back to him, her tent being so low that she couldn’t stand upright in it. The girl regarded the sleeping wolf-man’s form cautiously for a moment, studying his bandages on his torso and she smiled that he seemed to be sleeping a bit more restfully now. Carefully she looked down to his pants and began to examine his legs; looking for wounds through his dark colored clothes and softly pressing into the flesh with her nimble fingers. Soon she found a gouge that was deep and a few inches long on the right thigh. Knowing that if he’d sustained injuries to his legs she’d have to treat them raised the question of _how_ exactly she’d have to get to the wounds… either to remove his pants or tear the pants open. The gouge’s length was large enough that she’d have to remove a large section of cloth, rendering the pants useless if she were to truly get at the wound properly… It’d be best to remove the pants to access that wound and to look for any other wounds that might be hiding underneath she decided.

 

Shyly she waved her hand in front of his face a few times. His breathing seemed easier, yes, but he did seem well asleep still. The wound on his leg was still not clotted and was leaking a lot of blood so she decided to pull down his pants ONLY if he had underclothes… otherwise she’d rip into them and she could sew them up later if need be. The question of underclothing only came into her mind she realized because she had no idea if Worgen needed them, but she blushed slightly and realized that the man before her might have enchanted clothing that had sized upwards with his transformation, and she’d been rather silly… She’d run across some Orcs who simply wore loincloth-like items and that idea was bothersome to her, not proper at all! Not that her removing a strange man’s pants was proper in the first place... She realized that her thoughts were running away in her head as her hands were undoing his belt and she tried reach a finger just under the waistline of his pants. To her immense relief she felt a softer cotton material under his pants indicating he did have _something_ underneath…

 

“Thank the Light you’re wearing underclothes…” she whispered, to the Worgen she thought unconscious.

 

A deeper flush grew in her face as she tugged down on his pants and they did not come down. His belt already undone, she sighed and nervously moved her hands to unbutton his pants as quickly as she could and try not to unbutton more than she needed. She managed to undo three before she realized there was a rise below those buttons nearing his groin and she jerked her hands away nervously, not wanting to touch, or even get anywhere near touching anywhere near inappropriate on the Worgen let alone a man. She was breathing heavily and staring down at him for a moment before she managed to work the nerve to finally tug down his pants so she’d be able to begin to treat the wound on his thigh...

 

When her long and oddly soft fingers began to probe from his waist down his legs he bit back a groan. He was sore and in pain, but he also didn’t want this rotting corpse touching him… especially anywhere below his belt. As if reading his mind the girl seemed to professionally go down his left leg and find relatively minor injuries. Then she went to his other leg and he tried force himself to relax as she neared his wound there… When she found it he had to grind his teeth slightly and pray that she didn’t notice... Then she began to go for his belt and he frowned inwardly… She meant to take his pants off!

 

As her finger touched him gingerly under his belt-line, rubbing his fur and skin, he tried to remind himself that it was a puppet of flesh touching him like this… But the way she smelled, the death was barely an afterthought on the other scents competing… _Why on Azeroth is it touching me like this?! If it’s curious about Worgen anatomy it could just pull down my pants already! Light! Is it toying with me?_ He wondered in confusion what it was doing and why. When it finally spoke he realized that it perhaps meant to actually remove his pants to treat his wounds and… he smirked inwardly, the undead monstrosity actually did have feelings, it was shy. When its fingers worked the buttons of his pants and then jerked away as if burned as it realized that the anatomy of a man differed to that of a woman’s he had to bite back a chuckle. As much as he disliked the idea of being further disrobed in front of this creature, he somewhat liked the idea that it.. That she would likely be more uncomfortable.

 

He supposed that the girl truly thought him unconscious as she struggled to gently pull his pants down to around his knees. He bit back a growl of anger, though he could smell her intense anxiety and he did derive pleasure from it. The wound did need addressing… and the other option was tearing into the pants, but he did not want this thing helping him.

 

She had been beginning to tug his pants down and then she blushed deeply again, that green-blue. She’d never seen a man without pants before as an adult, but he needed help. Underneath he wore something like white shorts she had seen on some leather armor styles and something akin to swim-wear, so she relaxed a bit. Soon she had access to the leg wound and she took out the cotton and water to clean it. Then she applied potion. Then she turned away a moment to grab the knife so she could cut the netherweave.

 

He was paying acute attention and heard and felt her turn, his eyes came open and he watched as she turned and he saw the knife in her hand. He was helpless before her. This Undead girl… he pounced with a growl. He had failed to even notice the bandages, years of battle his eyes only honed in on the knife.

 

Atalia found herself pinned to the floor suddenly looking up into the fierce eyes of her patient. They were a lovely blue color... One of his hands was holding her right wrist, the one with the knife, above her head, and firmly down, the other of his had her other arm pinned at the side, but it was so near her body, her breast was touching his large hand.. His legs were pressed between hers but he was struggling, trying to get the pants off, his legs twisted in them.

 

 _Perhaps I should have just cut a hole into them to treated the wound_ , she thought bitterly as his pants finally came off and he thankfully put a leg on either side of her instead of between her legs.

 

A long silence passed before she finally said, “You can pin me, but… please, take my other wrist or something…?” A deep blush was across her face by this point. He was only in his underclothes after all and had her pinned beneath him _and_ his hand was pressing against her breast...

 

The Worgen noticed this and glanced down, noticing that his hand was in contact with her breast and smiled slightly. “I didn’t realize the dead could blush,” he chuckled. But he complied, moving his hand away from her body slightly, letting her breast fall slightly. As he looked down her body he realized that her chest was nearly obnoxiously large for her small frame. Her gray cloak had fallen open, revealing her clothing and her shapely body beneath it, which was the main reason Atalia wore a cloak.

 

The comment stung a bit, but Atalia merely took it in stride, “Some of us still have fluids in our bodies.” She smiled up at the man who was above her.

 

He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her phrasing. He knew what she meant, but given her position he wondered if perhaps she meant more, so he asked, “And what all fluids would that include…?” The Worgen smirked wickedly at the end of his question.

 

Atalia hadn’t even realized that her comment could have been taken wrongly and blushed deeply once more. She felt a need to answer though, it was only fair for people to know about Forsaken after all, so she answered in a knowledgeable tone, “Well, all kinds. Saliva, gastric acids in the stomach, ichor in the veins instead of blood, and, uh…” Then she blushed again. Sex crossed her mind and she was suddenly aware that there were other mucosal fluids and such that existed.

 

Her involuntary facial reaction wasn’t lost on the man and he grinned. The girl beneath him looked very young… Younger than his daughter for sure and perhaps even the age of his son when… Perhaps instead of just physically attacking her he could..? No! The idea was repulsive! Lying with a creature whose joke of a body was rotting and only held together with ichor and magic? Disgusting… but it seemed like she was so naive and perhaps inexperienced. He glanced down over her body a moment, making her blush deepen and she frowned at him. Perhaps she _was_ inexperienced. If she were, maybe he could break her. The idea had been proposed among fellow comrade Worgen before, speaking of revenge, the only concern was finding a Forsaken that would be breakable and also not such a shambling sack of rot and bones that the act could be gone through with... Sylvanas held all undead as her children so if he did so… But, she looked younger than his children! Even if she came willingly the idea of her age alone made his stomach twist…

 

 _She could be much older than she appears_ , he thought. Studying her face. It reminded him of Sylvanas’s rangers in some ways, it was somewhat plump and round with round lips that looked soft and moist despite being a dark blue. Her skin was a pale bluish white, but it looked very soft, her face surrounded by dark red curls that shone in the firelight. Her eyes glowed a sea-green, unlike any undead he had ever seen, and they studied him without fear, but he could smell the nervousness on her. If she had been alive he would have called her beautiful… A bit short maybe, her chest too large for her height, but she could have lost an inch or so in death, despite the plumpness of her skin, her body seemed capable of athleticism, something that as a warrior he could appreciate.

 

“Why do you keep looking at my body when you already have me pinned?” She asked nervously, her voice quivering slightly. “The knife was to cut the bandages you know…” Atalia had little experience, but she did not like the look in the Worgen’s eye as he repeatedly kept glancing her body up and down.

 

The question broke him from his thoughts and his eyes darted down and back to where he had been lying. Indeed, a trail of netherweave was unfurled from the bedroll to where he had her pinned now, they were lying with their heads just outside the tent, her legs just on the bedroll. As he came to look back on her face she smiled gently. She seemed very sweet for a dead creature… “Why did you save me?” he asked.

 

“If someone found me like that, I’d hope that they’d save me!” she replied with a slight chuckle. She sounded quite genuine and as she kept smiling at him it made him angry for some reason… He was only so gravely injured right now because of the Forsaken.

 

Sylvanas had killed his son, helped topple Gilneas, and was responsible for the death of another of his friends though… and this was his chance for some sort of revenge. Even if she was a poor, young, unguarded girl… “How old are you?” _Maybe she’s_ lived _more years than I thought. Her and her rangers are eons old… Many Forsaken are older than one might guess. This could be some game! She could be pretending to be coy and innocent… She could have been walking around since the invasion of the scourge, completely untouched by age._

 

The question made Atalia nervous. Why would he be asking this? But she knew something he didn’t, so she calmly answered _almost_ truthfully, “I was 19 when I died, just barely… And I have lived about three years now since being Raised.” She was actually only sixteen when she had died, but… her life had been a complicated one. She felt like she got more respect when she was a tad deceptive, and she got less pity.

 

His fears were confirmed. She was younger than his children. He sighed and shook his head. Then he leaned down and smelled her by her neck. He smelled roses and that sweet herb that must be emanating from her hair. He felt the girl stiffen as he did this and he chuckled. He moved his hands down her arms slightly, just pressing down them further. Her skin was softer and more supple than it should be for a dead and reanimated corpse. Even the smell of death was faint on her, but the smell of her fear was strong…

 

“Please… stop…” she whispered nervously.

 

His stomach lurched as he felt his heart pound in excitement at her plea. She was getting more nervous now. She should… he could do this to her, he realized. He felt a mix of horror and giddiness run through him as he realized this and he straightened to look into her face. Atalia looked terrified as he grinned down at her. A look of scared realization of what was happening had begun to dawn on her face. He then moved his left leg, his good leg, to try to get between hers, but she tried to keep them firmly in place.

 

“This can happen easy and enjoyably for you, or this can happen forcefully and I can’t guarantee how much you’ll like it,” he growled quietly, finally forcing his leg between the two of hers roughly.

 

“Ma’yat!!” Ma’yat!!!” She screamed suddenly, looking off out from the tent. “Help!!!” She then began to try to struggle from him, but he had several feet on her and more than enough weight to easily keep her in place. He chuckled at her feeble attempt until suddenly he heard a familiar deep chime of an elemental and his stomach dropped. He had a mage pinned beneath him and she’d called her elemental. The Worgen immediately knew that he had to force her concentration to break or else he’d lose control of the situation.

 

Trying to break her focus so the elemental would then decide to wander off or even be dismissed he quickly took both wrists into his left hand and then he tore off her cloak. She gasped and then continued to flail beneath him. She tried to kick, and as she did, he managed to use her movements to get his other leg between hers, then he used his knees to pin her hips to the ground, rendering her kicks useless. He admired, now that he could see it better, her bra-like chestpiece but she had a shirt under, and he then tore it off with a snap right as the elemental reached the camp. She cried out as the leather tearing had hurt, digging into her skin as he did this, but he didn’t let up and then tore off her gray shirt, ripping it several pieces. His muscles and claws made easy work of the fabric. The elemental had been charging a shot at him and as she sat there beneath him, him holding her ruined shirt, her now only in the bottom half of her armor and bra, her concentration had indeed been shattered. The elemental dropped its arm and then began to wander away from the camp. He tossed the ruined shirt to the side of the tent atop where his coat was and gave her a wolfish grin.

 

“Ma-Ma’yat!! Please!!! Help!!” She yelled helplessly as the arcane creature disappeared into darkness. The white wolf laughed openly at his victory. He honestly hadn’t been expecting that. Perhaps some rogue trick, warlock spell work, or an unholy priest trick, but not an elemental. He had her hands caught, so as a mage, she couldn’t perform any tricks, but he couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t called for help from her summoned companion earlier. “Ma’yat…” she cried softly a couple tears forming in her eyes.

 

“Why _didn’t_ you call that thing earlier? You felt in control?” The Worgen smirked. The mage could only turn her face to the side to avoid the man above her and she didn’t reply immediately.

 

“I… I thought if I gave _you_ control… perhaps you wouldn’t feel the need to hurt me.” She finally said after several moments, trying to regain composure of her voice, but struggling.

 

The comment stung, but it could make sense. Strategically the man ran it through his head and he ruled out as a possibility, given the girl’s naivety, that she was lying… He steeled himself for what he was about to do and took the netherweave that was to his right and began to wind it around her wrists, tightly. She began to really cry now as he then turned to push her head into the tent and bind her wrists to a pole inside. Soon she had her wrists bound above her head and she was lying with her back on the bedroll. It would be a long night for her…

 

The Worgen’s hands began to loosen her belt as soon as he made sure her hands were securely bound. She hadn’t really fought him much as he moved and bound her, but now, _now_ she began to yank against the binds and pole. “No! No, please! _Please_ , stop! No!” She frantically begged as he undid her belt. He paused and then looked up to her face. She had actually cried tears… it was eerie, and it made him feel guilty already. _But, she is a mockery of life_ , he reminded himself. But, still, he gently took a hand and touched her face while using his other to touch her bare side. As she shivered slightly he smiled at the reaction, regardless if she had liked what he was doing or was despising it… Again that surge of revulsion at himself and excitement ran through as he leaned over and licked her neck.

 

She took a hitched breath followed by deeper heavier breaths. His clawed hand was now on her neck and the other still at her side, patiently now trying to ease her into this. He kissed her neck gently which made her jolt slightly and he smiled as he kissed, licked, and nipped along her neck. He marveled how soft her skin actually was, it did almost feel like a living woman, except that it was very cool, as if she had been outside in winter without a covering for a couple hours… Atalia had never actually had anyone touch her like she was being touched now, or kiss her like this… the warmth of his hands and his mouth, of his breath, it made her shiver… She’d been terrified about this only moments before, but… it was feeling nice as much as she was hating herself for enjoying while he ran his tongue along her collarbone before breathing heavily along where he’d licked. She gasped in pleasure at the sensation… When he kissed along the underside of her jaw again she felt a tight sensation growing between her legs, it had been building some for some time and she bit back a groan. She pulled gently at her bonds, but they were tied expertly and she sighed. When he bit down gently on the other side of her neck she gasped and leaned into it, relishing the sensation, but she yanked at where he hands were tied. His hand from her neck then went back to her belt and began to try to gently tug her pants downwards. She had been breathing hard, leaning into his actions slightly, but now she stiffened suddenly.

 

“Relax…” he whispered. “I do want to make you feel good…”

 

“...By forcing me into… whatever this is?” Atalia asked, glaring into the top of his head and then his face as he pulled back to look at her.

 

He frowned slightly. “How much sex have you had?” he asked frankly the question that had been nagging at his mind.

 

“I’ve never had a partner… I’m a virgin,” She confirmed his suspicion nervously, but avoided his eyes. “Please don’t… please don’t take that from me.” She weakly asked with a smile, meeting his eyes finally at the end. Her whole life she felt conflicted about the idea of dating or being courted because of… reasons… Questions regarding her experience she desperately tried to avoid, but she could confidently and truthfully say that she had never taken a partner to court or date… Inside she wondered if she should divulge the dark secret to this stranger that she wasn’t completely innocent of his insinuations… But she felt too ashamed.

 

Part of him wanted to rip off her pants and ravage her right there as he heard her say that she’d never had a partner.. Make her scream and cry, beg and plead for nought, not ease into it at all… Let her go crying back to her queen once it was all over, a broken mess, at least he would spare her “ _life_ ”… But, a part of him softened… she _was_ so young and a virgin… It disgusted him, his desire to hurt her, to _take_ her like this… But his desire… his _need_ for revenge outweighed that disgust. And some animalistic urge in the Worgen part of him stirred... Besides, even if her emotions were not just a front, he was sure they couldn’t be felt nearly as deeply as a normal human being.

 

The conflicting emotions must have shown slightly across his face because she kept her hopeful smile for a few moments before it finally faded as a smile bloomed across his face. The Worgen’s smile was one of pity and he looked away from her eyes before he then took both his hands onto the hips of her pants and began to pull them off.

 

Atalia struggled with him, not resigning herself to this fate. She finally managed to kick him in the side, eliciting a loud howl of pain from him. He then pinned her knees to get the pants down to her knees, then pinned took her feet in one hand and pulled the pants off the rest of the way. Once he managed to get them off he tossed them outside the tent and he glared at his captive angrily rubbing his bandaged side in pain. The irony was not lost on him and his anger subsided quickly as she glared at him and he felt guilty at what he was doing once more… but again the idea of revenge drove him to continue. She may have bandaged his wounds, but it was her kind’s fault he was wounded.

 

Atalia saw his furious look as she landed a blow to his side, but she saw how it softened as he studied her… She saw how his gaze became hungry with lust and she felt uncomfortable. She never thought a man would look at her in such a way, and now to be literally tied up and have a man look at her in such a way, a way she was sure no man would ever look at her after she had _died_ , she felt conflicted.... She closed her eyes and flinched as he bent down over her frame, expecting him to tear off the remainder of her modesty, but he merely kissed her neck gently and gently touched her side. The Forsaken relaxed immensely at not having the rest of her clothing torn off, but she couldn’t help but enjoy what the Worgen was doing to her. He was being gentle with his touches, the kisses, his licks, his nips… It was almost as if this was like being with a man should be, if she could have ever chosen it… It was not exactly like she’d ever get to choose it after what had happened now, but she had resigned herself to that! The more he did, the more she enjoyed it, and the sadder it was making her. This wasn’t how she wanted things to go! She wanted to choose to be with a man! ...not that a normal man would choose to be with her...

 

He considered kissing her on the lips, but as he was a Worgen, and not knowing if she had even had a first kiss… he considered that a bit too cruel, so he went back to her, leaning over her carefully, he  kissed her neck again. As her pants were off and she was only in bra and panties ... his hands only went to her sides once more, her body relaxed some. Soon she was breathing a bit heavy again as he kissed and licked her neck. He went all along from under her chin and to where it met her shoulders. With her pants off now he could smell _her_ , she was becoming turned on… He was only kissing her! Her inexperience was somehow a sick thrill to him as he continued…

 

The girl beneath him didn’t have a beating heart and her flesh wasn’t alive, but it was good mimicry… he felt his own heart begin to beat harder as one hand began to travel upwards. She let out a gasp and once again she stiffened, but he could still smell that she was interested in his ministrations, so he continued. Soon he had a large hand around one of her equally large breasts and gently cupped it, resting his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily himself. Then he slowly and softly began to rub her chest, knowing that this was probably the first time that she’d experienced such a thing. Soon enough her body was relaxing and she was breathing hard again, but she tugged her arms at the binds above her.

 

“Are you not liking what I’m doing…?” He asked, with a toothy grin, leaning his head up to look her in the eyes.

 

Her face was flushed a deathly blue-green, and she only darkened more at the question, but managed to answer, “N-not really… I’ve been try...trying to g-get away… f-for a while…” Her words were staggered and her breath still heavy as she answered and she shuddered as he finally pinched a nipple through the fabric of her bra and she let out a soft moan, closing her eyes. Whether her eyes were closed solely from pleasure, pain, or embarrassment, it was difficult to tell.

 

The Worgen chuckled, “Why are you stuttering?” and then he leaned down to her ear. “I can smell that _perhaps_ you’re enjoying yourself.”

 

At the comment the girl suddenly lurched at the bonds above her particularly hard, but found no give. Then she stopped struggling at all. The man looked at her and saw she appeared somewhat crestfallen… Accepting her fate… He resumed kissing along her neck and then took his other hand and began to touch her other breast. Soon he was massaging them both and then he leaned above her and examined the bra… He found the small clasps in front and struggled to undo them, but managed to carefully remove the article mindful of his claws, unlike the other part of her upper clothing, and he tossed it aside unscathed. It left her bare-chested and the girl immediately flushed as his eyes took in the sight.

 

She’d never had a man see her like this as an adult and she wished she could just cover herself up, but as she pulled at her bonds, they wouldn’t give. Her wrists were beginning to hurt from the repeated tugs and struggling she was giving them. All of his touches were first-times… as much as she hated it, it was new and novel, and she couldn’t help but feel a reaction inside herself.

 

Her skin was a deathly pale bluish white with nipples of a dark blue, much like her lips… The soft flesh beneath him was so cool that it was almost cold, but it was warming under his touches… He could smell the tones of death underneath the sweet smell of roses and herbs on this girl, she was just a bag of rotting bones and flesh… ichor not blood in her veins by her own admission… but he could smell the feminine reek of her being turned on beneath him. She was so wet because of what he was doing… despite if she did not want it, despite if she wasn’t really… alive… He could also smell her fear... The Worgen swallowed and looked over the girl beneath him, she had a mix of fear and some other emotion he couldn’t pin in her eyes, so he leaned down and took one of her breasts into his mouth, making her gasp loudly.

 

The man licked her breast gently, running across the sensitive blue bus in the center gently a couple times. Then he expertly sucked at the bare nipple, minding his sharp teeth, making it harden almost instantly. His left hand went to her other breast and rubbed the nipple as he continued to suck and then gently pressed his teeth into the hardened nub of flesh. The girl finally lurched up into him and he tried not to smile and merely continued his work. She was suddenly moaning quietly, subdued…

 

Atalia had never had someone make her orgasm before, but she could tell that she was about to crest, and she was fighting to stop herself. She was trying to bite back the moans, but they came anyway. The Worgen pinched her nipple and then switched from where he was, sucking on her right to her left side and giving her now-wet breast attention with his right hand. The sudden change was just enough to shove her off the edge and she couldn’t stop the gasp and then loud breathing that followed. Expertly, the man sucked and flicked his tongue at the same time, and pinched down gently with his claws on the other side, riding out her orgasm for a longer time than she had ever felt the few times she had managed the feat alone… She also couldn’t stop herself from pressing her back upwards… it was so instinctual, so natural, there was just so much sensation and heat… After the crescendo began to subside he finally stopped sucking on her and then he sat up and looked down at her.

 

The Worgen smiled down at the girl. Regardless of what followed, she’d be wet enough now for him, and at least she had gotten some pleasure from this… If only the pleasure he gave would later shame her… His hands then traveled towards her panties and her reaction was delayed because he had caught her in an afterglow.

 

She was still breathing heavily, despite not needing that much air… and failed to notice immediately as his hands trailed to her remaining undergarment. She finally noticed as he began to tug them downwards, and then once again she began to struggle, trying to kick him…

 

He used the same tricks to remove the panties that he did her pants and soon they were off. He was between her knees and she began to shake in fear. She’d been slightly placated by only being kissed, and her hormones had perhaps gotten the better of her with her top off, but it was clear that this was fully sex he was suddenly intentioning. As she began to tremble, a look of concern flitted across his face.

 

“Please, stop this,” she begged. “Look I don’t even know your name. I can’t tell anyone about any of this.”

 

The comment shocked him. He wondered if it was the truth or not. _How long had she been dead?_ he wondered. She looked like she hadn’t been dead for long, Gilneas had joined the Alliance a couple years ago, but more than three. Again guilt wandered through his mind about what he was about to do and he leaned down, putting his hands on her sides again, a neutral area.

 

“Shh…” He shushed quietly, leaning his head beside hers. She only began to cry in response and he felt slightly worse. His ears went back against his head. They had been having fun… he thought… but he had had to tie her up to do it, and she’d been fighting against her bonds, but he could smell that she _was_ enjoying it, even if she denied it.

 

Again he moved to kiss her neck, ignoring her heartbreaking cries, his hands gently caressing her abdomen. After several minutes of him kissing, licking, and nipping she had quieted, but she wasn’t breathing hard with any sort of desire… _yet_. He felt frustrated.

 

Atalia had resigned herself that this man, this Worgen was going to rape her… the bonds on her wrists were too tight for her to get away or cast a spell. She was naked and helpless. Crying was just expelling fluid that was precious as a Forsaken… When he finally sat up again and sighed loudly and she began to tremble again, knowing that this was it; she was about to lose her virginity.

 

“If you’re this terrified it is going to hurt badly,” he calmly stated to her.

 

The Forsaken stared at him aghast. What sort of reaction was he expecting? Did he do this sort of thing regularly? Were women supposed to enjoy being forcibly ravaged by Worgen? Finally her shock turned to rightful anger and she replied, “Of course I’m scared! I want you to stop… Don’t you have any family? A sister? A wife? A daughter? What if this happened to her?”

 

He flinched at the comment. The idea of his own daughter being assaulted was a bit, well, laughable, given how formidable she was, but if captured… Then he felt sick. What was he doing? He was making himself little better than his enemy...

 

The Worgen had smirked at her question but then he appeared a bit bothered then upset. He turned away from her and then brought over the cloak that he had discarded earlier. Carefully he drapped it over her nude and prone body before he left the tent. From Atalia’s point of view she first was concerned that perhaps he had left her there, bound to the pole, but she soon heard the sound of the kettle hitting the ground near the fire outside… He’d gone to finally remove the damn thing before it got ruined. She sighed in relief as she heard him begin to then put the fire out and then felt slightly concerned as she heard him yelp in pain quietly.

 

“...Are you okay?” She called out softly.

 

After what he had done, what he was going to do, the question bothered him, but he answered, “Yes.” Finishing putting the fire out and returning to the tent. The moonlight was more than enough light for his eyes. The girl’s eyes glowed green, much like a blood elf, and she was staring at him as he reentered the tent and then he looked at her. “I’ll sleep on it.”

 

“Sleep on what?” Atalia asked. She didn’t get it at first as he turned his back on her and curled up away from her on what was exposed of the bedroll. Then with horror she realized what he meant. He was still planning on at least possibly assaulting her. “B-but I helped you! I...I haven’t done any of this before… how can you…?”

 

“Quiet!” he growled loudly, turning his head over his shoulder slightly. Revenge… the need still dug at him so deeply that it made him unsure of his actions. As he turned back away, for some reason he felt the need to tell her, and he wasn’t sure if it was to hurt or to try to seek absolution from her. “Your queen killed my son… He was little older than you when he met his end.”

 

She was silent for a couple minutes before she finally replied. “How can you do this to _anyone_ , when you’ve lost a child?” She asked, horrified. “Especially when… I’m _younger_.”

 

The Worgen finally snarled at her, “Because of that!” He sat up and turned around, staring her in the face. “I wanted to _break_ you so you’d go back to that queen of yours with this story… She stole my son, so I can steal at least something from you… You’re all _her_ children after all.”

 

Atalia let out a choked cry and then began to sob quietly as the man turned his back and seemed to go fall asleep quickly. He actually didn’t fall asleep quickly, though, and her sobs shook him to his core. His need for revenge, his need to avenge Liam, he wasn’t sure if it was worth hurting this particular girl… But he tried to remind himself that she was just a mimicry, an echo of life. She was imitating the real thing. From what he had heard Forsaken didn’t even feel things as well as normal people… although she did seem rather sensitive. Maybe she had been near Holy magic and that was why her senses were so? But she seemed emotionally sensitive, too... _No_ , this girl’s soul was lost long ago… she was supposed to be dead no matter how sweet she _seemed_. Maybe a lot of it was even an act to try to mess with his mind. Perhaps she really knew who he was… she wasn’t even a virgin or actually ‘lived’ so many few years. As sleep finally found him, his mind had been made up as to what to do with her.

 

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So there were more clues, revealed along the way, but though I will start naming ‘the Worgen’ in CH2, to be clear, but Atalia has NO idea, who he is…. Man I am fucked up… wrote this while in a fucked up place...


	2. Suffer Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The named Worgen, Genn acts against Atalia… brutally… x_X and she is left to try to get home afterwards and runs into an enemy Night Elf.

Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft/World of Warcraft or any of the WoW characters, story, world, or stuff within I and I make no money from this. OCs are mine. This is a work of fiction and relation to real life is coincidence.

 

A/N: There’s an short excerpt from Before the Storm at the end to put Genn in more perspective for those who’re interested. 

 

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“It is by suffering that human beings become angels.”-- Victor Hugo

 

But what of the demons?

 

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Chapter 2 Suffer Survive

 

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Only a few hours passed before Genn awoke. He immediately could tell that his wounds had closed and begun to heal. Whatever the Forsaken had done to treat them before he awoke to her treating him had worked fast, though the deeper tissue was still mending some. As he stirred Atalia immediately took notice.

 

She had cried for less than an hour and tried to break free from her bonds, with no success. She’d tried even bending her legs up to where her wrists met, but apparently years of some experience with military had left Genn with knowledge of knots and her completely stuck to the pole. It was also firmly stuck in the ground, too. Her elemental had been the one who ran it into the earth, something she regretted now. Atalia had also tried to call back her elemental, and even to resummon Ma’yat, but with her hands bound the way they were she couldn’t. She was a very stubborn and resilient person though, and tried for a couple hours… uselessly. 

 

The knife used to cut bandages was way out of reach, at least two feet from where her feet were, but she even tried stretching herself to reach it. Then she finally recalled that her spell knife was on her belt, which was on her pants, and she tried to reach those with her toes. Her pants were only a foot from her toes, at least a part of them… She began doing that for the last couple hours when the Worgen finally stirred. She at first froze and then frantically stretched until her muscles and ligaments were at their limits and hurt badly, but her toes only came within perhaps five inches of the pants.

 

As the white furred man awoke and sat up, stretching he turned to see what the mage behind him was doing. She was… stretching… His eyes glanced down to her leg extending past her cloak and nearing her pants and then he spotted the dagger, glinting at the far end of them, just as she let out a groan and she relaxed, flopping hopelessly down on the bedroll. With a long leg  he easily stretched, reaching them, and kicked her pants further out of her reach. She had gotten dangerously close to retrieving them… He had gotten a bit careless. Fury burst through him a moment as scenarios ran through his mind of what she could have done upon retrieving the knife… The dirty, rotting, undead would have cut herself loose and easily bound him and then decided to torture him… Or she could have simply killed him for revenge… She could have teleported them straight to the Undercity even...

 

He sighed and ran a hand through the fur atop his head as he looked down at her. She frowned at him, but it was a slight frown, he had after all said he was going to “sleep on it,” so she had taken him on his word. That was the reason… That naivety, that was it, that was what had made him so careless as to not notice that her pants were nearly within reach. It stirred something within him as he looked over her body, knowing it was only clothed with that cloak… Somehow he now doubted she would have harmed him if she had gotten the spell dagger.

 

“How do you feel?” She asked nervously. Atalia didn’t like the way he was looking at her… It was too much alike the way he had been looking when this all first began.

 

The urge to reply, ‘hungry’ was overwhelming, but too cliched. “I feel a lot better,” he admitted. His urges subsiding a bit. “Whatever you did seems to have helped quite a bit…”

 

“Good,” she smiled sweetly and genuinely. Regardless of whatever happened, she had saved a life. She had no regret about that. The familiar pangs of guilt dug at him for a moment, but it subsided quickly as he lied back down and nestled his face into the girl’s neck. He closed his eyes and smelled roses, a sweet herb… death and ichor…

 

The urge to follow with his plan stirred in his gut as he smelled. The motion though, it was merely snuggling-like to Atalia so she didn’t realize at first that there was an issue until he finally spoke.

 

“You smell so life-like…” the Worgen nudged at her neck with his muzzle and then licked softly. “But… you don’t taste it…” That rosey taste with sweet almonds… flesh, just plain flesh… but he could taste the taste of death.

 

The comment made her turn her face away from him, and she tried to wriggle her body away but he quickly wrapped a leg around one of her legs, pulling her to him and then into him. She gasped as she felt the contours of his body pressing against her… She only thanked the Light that she didn’t feel… well, anything else yet.

 

While he began to kiss and nip at her neck she struggled to ignore the sensations. Why did she take care of her skin?! Why did she take care of her hair?! If she just let herself rot and dry up, maybe this wouldn’t be happening… but she’d be falling apart… Ugh…!!! His right hand went  round her right breast and she bit back a gasp, trying to reign in her reaction.

 

Soon he was rubbing her breast through her cloak and despite the thickness she could feel the sensation. It only made matters worse as he gently used the tips of his claws to run through it several times in various motions. Atalia writhed at the feeling, she just wanted it to stop, but it was beginning to feel good... When he suddenly yanked the material down, the coldness on her cool skin was an odd sensation. He moved his head down and soon she couldn’t help herself, she was breathing hard in ecstasy… He was licking and sucking on her left breast, but not touching the nipple, and rubbing her right breast in circles nearing the nipple, but not quite reaching it, and then going away from it. Quickly he moved his mouth onto the bluish tip and began to lick softly and she bit back a moan. Atalia hated herself that it was feeling good… She didn’t want any of this, but it was happening, and it was just made worse by the fact it felt good. She expected his right hand to finally begin to touch her right bud, but instead it pushed her cloak further down while moving his leg down, exposing more cool bluish flesh.

 

She was completely nude underneath… was he going to actually touch her?? She stiffened slightly in fear and forced her legs together. He wedged his soft white furry leg between her own white legs and she groaned in frustration. She was bound and he was ridiculously stronger and larger than her. He smirked briefly at her groan, but merely kept moving his right hand down and slowly began touching her hips. Atalia began to relax a bit as he did this… Then she trembled as he flitted across a ticklish spot. 

 

He stopped the ministration at her breast and dared to look her in the face again, “Just try to relax…” His eyes met hers for several moments of silence before she finally nodded, very slightly. He was trying not to hurt her, but he was going to do this… He was more partially concerned that as an undead if she weren’t aroused she might leak ichor all over him, but he said nothing about that and smiled slightly, his eyes faltering away from hers a moment, as he finally lowered his hand from her hips to between her forcefully spread legs.She glared at him. He felt her press them together against his right leg, hard, and he smirked. As his hand reached her nether lips he was surprised that there was no hair, but he shrugged it off and grinned as he felt how wet she was already on the outside.

 

She turned her face away, no longer able to bravely glare at his smirks as he pressed a clawed digit carefully between her outer lips. Again the concern of making her bleed out ichor came across his mind and he finally said, “Tell me if it hurts, I don’t normally do this as a Worgen…”

 

“Change back then,” she hissed quietly.

 

“I’m still too weak,” he admitted, a bit ashamed. But, raping her as a Worgen would only add to her embarrassment… He ran the finger up slightly and then down, spreading her, feeling her out before pressing into her slightly. He heard her bite out a gasp. Atalia was shocked at the sensation and that it actually was slightly painful to be actually penetrated if only by a single digit. This wasn’t how she had expected such a thing to feel.

 

“I-it hurts…” she sighed out softly before he had entered even halfway. He had been careful with his claw, it didn’t feel like it was pressing firmly on her flesh, but she  _was_ insanely tight. Feeling her squeezing around him so hard he was beginning to feel turned on.

 

Any thoughts about her lying about being a virgin were dismissed from his head as he shook it. “I mean from my claw,” he smiled a bit amused. “You’re too tight, I need to loosen you.”

 

“Wh-what?!” she exclaimed nervously, her eyes going wide she stared at him.

 

He took that moment to swiftly press the large finger as deep as he could manage into her, making her gasp out and arch her back slightly. He felt a single spasm around it and he raised an eyebrow with another grin, “Unless you want me to fuck you like this… as tight as you are… my dear.” He pressed his finger up and into where most girls’ special spots usually were and he heard another intake of breath come from her. She was staring at him, wide-eyed and breathing hard now. “It might feel good for me, but not for you…” he admitted, withdrawing his finger slowly, and carefully, pressing so the claw would not rend her insides. Hearing his words struck her hard and made her realize that she was walking a razor’s edge with this man’s cruelty level...

 

“F-f-fine…” she admitted, closing her eyes. A couple tears fell and he reconsidered fully raping the girl. Maybe humiliating her was enough… But it was for Liam. It was to avenge his dear boy, and not just him, this would be for Varian, for Gilneas. 

 

At the thoughts of his child, Genn lashed out at the poor girl beneath him, “Your body acts so human… And you mimic human emotions so well for something not human…” He growled, plunging his finger into her again, but this time she was less relaxed and he regret his words. But as he moved his finger back out he moved it upwards towards her clit and she immediately lurched. Atalia had been trying not to react to his ministrations, but even she had never touched herself here. She hadn’t even known about here! It was so sensitive by this point that soon her body was relaxing as he gently rubbed it. It felt amazing! She tried not to enjoy it, but it was impossible… She let out a soft moan.  _Oh… inexperienced shy girls… a lot are easy to get off this way_ , he thought. But he stopped before she came near her apex. 

 

When he removed his hand, her eyes opened and she looked at him curiously… He had pushed her off the edge before, why not now? Then it became all to apparent as he moved himself between her legs, having to force himself there, once again.

 

“Please don’t do this,” she asked again, like it was a sacred mantra that might somehow work. Genn smiled sadly at her and merely pushed her knees apart. She tried to squeeze against his hands that were holding her knees open and then he let them go as he went to remove his underpants. “Please, you really can stop now…”

 

“If you keep squeezing your legs, it’ll hurt you a lot,” was his only reply to her. He was unreadable to her, except that it was clear that he was unreachable most of the time, except when one thing had come up.

 

“Please! I’m younger than your son was! You’re a father… how can you-” his underclothes came off his feet right as her question was cut off.

 

“Quiet!” He snarled loudly at her. “I was willing to be gentle with you, to try to  _spare_ you some pain, but I’m going to just fuck you, you sorry  _excuse_ for a creature! You’re not even alive! You don’t deserve my pity!” He shoved her legs apart again.

 

Atalia let out a sob, partly as what he was doing, partly at his words, and partly as her eyes fell upon his large pink dick that was now mostly unsheathed. It was way too large to fit properly she thought to herself. It was going to tear her flesh for sure!!

 

“You don’t deserve my guilt!” He barked out, furiously, moving to position himself so he could enter her. He had been going to perhaps try a bit more foreplay, but if she wanted to play, he was ready to play! Genn used his right hand to position himself and left to keep her lower hips down, and thus keep her from kicking, now that he had let her legs free again. He then felt himself at her entrance… 

 

The girl’s flesh was all mostly cool, but it was a bit warmer here… he pressed and he heard her let out a cry as he shoved himself in only a couple inches. The look on her face was one of sheer pain and horror and it was delicious… He pulled out and then pushed back in, just as quickly and firmly of a thrust, making her cry out again close her eyes, but this time it was more loud. He felt the tissue inside of her tear and he grinned savagely down at her as he mounted her properly, feeling himself become more turned on, and sinking in deeper as he did so. She turned her face away as he leaned over her. 

 

This was hurting more than she had ever imagined that it would. As the Worgen pushed in deeper all she could do was turn away to try to hide her face from him to hide that she was in so much agony. She wanted him to stop so badly, but he kept his motions into her. She could feel that she was bleeding, stinging, aching, and it was just beginning...

 

“I wonder if you can heal that with your Forsaken potions?” he cruelly growled into her ear as he pulled out. The poor girl under him let out a sob and kept her face turned from him. Her hands bound, he reached a hand down and continued touching her clit as he pulled out of her. To his surprise he smelled blood, old dead blood, but blood, and he pushed back inside of her, trying to not give it much thought.

 

Her oddly cool flesh was the tightest that he could recall ever partaking in, and she was squeezing him so tautly it was an almost maddening sensation. He’d heard of cooling potions being used for sex to make it more pleasurable… perhaps this was why… Even undead, she was still very soft and moist, too. Her tightness combined with how damp she was from what he did to her earlier seemed to urge him to roughly shove into her a few times and savor the feeling, disregarding the whimpers she elicited. He kept a fast and hard pace for a bit before he leaned down and bit at her neck a bit harder than he had before. With her head turned to the side, it was wide open. The Worgen had to be careful not to puncture her skin, though, as he didn’t want to taste what might be lurking under the undead’s skin...

 

As Genn pulled out once more, and more slowly pushed into her, savoring the sensation of her tight flesh against his… At his sudden slowing of pace the girl twitched beneath him and let out a shuddering breath. The slower movement… it actually felt… good to her, with the combination of him touching her sensitive bundle of flesh still... 

 

He couldn’t help but smile, the creature was awake still… He continued to touch her clit and gently pulled out and then pushed back into her and she let out a slight moan before she managed to cut it off. The Worgen studied the side of her face, it was flushed and she was now biting her lip as he slowly and now gently continued his pace, still nursing the swollen nub of flesh in her nether region. Atalia tried to fight it, but she felt herself rising to the apex... None of the pleasure she was now feeling was helped by the fact that he had almost gotten her to orgasm and then denied it to her before beginning his assault.

 

He pushed into a bit harder her, arching his hips upwards a bit to rub her G-spot and she let out a surprised groan before he felt what he expected… tight spasms around his cock. He pressed deeper into her, and gently rubbed her clit, letting the girl ride out her orgasm with quiet gasps. She didn’t arch her back this time and he was a bit disappointed, but he enjoyed the sensation of her coming around him.

 

When he pulled out a bit, Genn grinned that she was now as tight as when he’d first entered. As he penetrated her again she didn’t seem pained though, so he increased his pace. “Good girl…” He whispered thrusting into her particularly hard, earning a quiet moan from the girl. She kept her face turned from him, more tears at her eyes… It was clear, he had broken her. Part of him wanted to stop or perhaps at least untie her and maybe gentle his movements, but another part, a primal part kept him going. She was so soft, tight, smooth,  _cool_ , and he leaned down into her neck and kissed it gently, trying to comfort her. He kept his pace quick, though, while he gently kissed at the girl’s net and shoulder, resisting the urge to bite it hard. To her the action was far from comforting, and she just wished he would finish with her… As he smelled her hair deeply he couldn’t control the urge any longer and he bit into her flesh again, this time harder, careful not the break it, where her shoulder and neck met, making her cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, much to his enjoyment.

 

As he pushed in after biting her, he finally fully hilted himself to a bulge at the base of his penis, she finally reacted with a slight groan of pain. It sung to him as he withdrew and considered trying to knot the girl, while he pushed into her again, hitting his knot once more. He finally earned a cry of pain from her before she bit down on her lower lip again, still refusing to look at him. Anger welled inside of him again.

 

“Look at me and I won’t knot you,” he warned, coldly. Atalia winced as he once more pressed into her and he warningly pushed deeply before she quickly turned and looked over at him. He raised himself from off her neck and looked into her sad eyes and managed a couple more hard thrusts into her, his knot hitting her each and every time, earning a wince of pain from her. Then he felt it, a swelling and he withdrew slightly before beginning to thrust harder and with more earnest. But, she was meeting his gaze, so he made sure to not hilt himself again, which in the heat of the moment, it was difficult to fight his lupine instincts...

 

The old wolf was breathing heavily, and he felt himself engorge slightly while still inside the girl beneath him. He leaned down into her sweet smelling hair as he began to cum, resisting the urge to pound ruthlessly into the girl until he felt himself swell tight into her, but he knew he shouldn’t do it… Then he pulled out slightly to push back into her one more time, earning pained whimpers from the child as she could tell this was it, and she was sore and bleeding. There were no hands in his fur as he came, either. He wasn’t able to get his partner to climax as he did, this wasn’t how he usually enjoyed himself… His own apex was soon over after many tense seconds of him breathing in her sweet scent. He could only nip on her neck and try to ignore her quiet weeping... As Genn finally pulled out of her, he looked to her and found her wide eyed and with tear-stained cheeks. Light blue bite marks were beginning to mar her neck where he had bitten her in the heat of the moment and her beautiful dark red hair was still silken and curly but in desperate need of combing.

 

He was panting slightly now that it was all over, and he rolled over to her right side again, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. It was still dark outside, but dawn pearled the sky. As it became apparent that he was now done with his assault, Atalia relaxed some. The worst had to be over, or so she hoped.

 

“Could you give me my cloak back?” she asked, quietly.

 

Genn grunted slightly but reached over and took her cloak and draped it over her before snuggling into her body again, wrapping his right leg around hers and wrapping his right arm around her shoulders, playing with her hair slightly. His breathing was slow and deep. Atalia thought perhaps he was beginning to doze off when half an hour of silence had passed but he finally spoke.

 

“I  _am_ sorry about this…” Greymane said to her quietly. He had been enjoying merely holding her soft body, one that shouldn’t be so soft and supple… smell so sweet and lifelike. “Run back to your queen. Tell her what an old white wolf did to you. Give her the details. Tell her this was revenge against one of her children.”

 

She felt part of her heart break. That this had all been about revenge was only the more hurtful.  _Would Sylvanas honestly even remember some random Worgen?_ Atalia wondered. She didn’t voice it. Sylvanas probably would remember Atalia though, from before... She merely nodded and watched as the mostly white Worgen began to redress into his bloody clothing.. His muscles large and powerful, soon again covered by more than just skin and fur. As he shrugged into his thick dark brown coat she wondered if he was going to leave her tied up or risk cutting her loose.

 

The same consideration seemed to cross his mind as he looked at her, completely helpless, tied to the pole still. He went and took her spell dagger from her pants and threw it off a considerable distance before then taking the knife she’d used to cut bandages and moving back towards her to free her. She at least assumed it was to finally cut her loose, not kill her, having thrown her spell dagger so far. As he cautiously reached over and began to cut the ties on her wrists she sighed with relief still. Then she immediately began to move her hands and wrists around, stretching them, as they’d gotten very uncomfortable. But, it was nothing compared to the aching between her legs.

 

“The spell dagger is maybe 30 yards in that direction,” Genn told her, pointing off to his left. He was then standing outside of the tent. “I’m taking the knife, for some sort of protection.”

 

“It’s yours,” she replied. “It’d be a shame for you to die after me saving you, after all…” The words weren’t said with malice or mal-intent, but she truly meant them and he could tell this and it made him feel horrible. His ears went back slightly. Her gentle and sweet smile did not help matters, either. It stung his heart as he turned away from the girl, hopefully to never see her again.

 

He headed up the hillside as fast as he could manage with his hurt leg, from there he could get his bearings… That left Atalia alone, and finally free. She firstly summoned Ma’yat. Her arcane elemental came obediently when commanded, now that she was clear-headed, and she chastised it for abandoning her. The creature merely stared at her and then made a chiming sound before it began to patrol around the camp. With a sighing huff the Forsaken began to pick up a piece of cotton and carefully clean herself. In between her legs was white sticky liquid, dark red blood, and some ichor. Cautiously she tried putting some potion on the area there, but it offered no relief, as it’d been designed for living tissue. She picked up her underclothes and put them back on. Thankfully those were both in two pieces. Her chest piece on the other hand was not whole… It was broken in the back, the leather bands torn, stretched until snapped in multiple places. She then put her cloak on properly, frowning that the buttons had been torn.

 

Clad only in her panties, bra, and wrapped in cloak, Atalia began to try retying the broken ties of leather in the back of her chest piece. Then she tried to put it back on. It sort-of fit. It barely covered her chest, and it was nearly falling off her shoulders. Also now without her shirt, her entire torso was now bare, much to her chagrin. She then went and began to pack what was left of the clean bandages and the potion in the tent and other nearby items up. As she went to move she found a deep and searing pain in between her legs. It had gone from dull and aching to killing her just from her trying to walk! She suddenly doubled over, just outside her tent, as she was reaching for her pants, groaning in pain… The undead girl gave herself several minutes curled up on her bedroll before she finally went to reach for the pants again, this time crawling over the dirt to get them. As she stood to put them on, she winced at the sharp jolts of agony awoken by the movements.

 

The Worgen had set out to hurt her, and he had indeed done so… She nervously glanced at the cotton she’d used to clean herself with and the worrying amount of fresh ichor mixed with the old dead blood. Any idea of actually telling anyone to ask for Healing scared her, though. Even as she had pleaded with him and tried to dissuade him, she hadn’t even mentioned the most pressing and horrific fact that might have actually stopped him… She’d already been molested before as a child. That it had happened all over again had crushed her soul into tiny pieces… 

 

_Well, if I have a soul still that is, as a Forsaken_ , she thought bitterly. But, she had not dared to ever tell anyone of what transpired when she was just a mere child and youth, she couldn’t bare the first person to ever learn about it would be someone to newly assault her. As she tried to pack up the camp she moved slowly and carefully, the pain between her legs hindering her.

 

“Ma’yat!” She yelled out for her elemental. It came into her vision within moments. “Go look for my spell dagger, it’s off in that direction,” she pointed off the direction it had been thrown. The creature nodded to its master before it wandered off where she had pointed. Atalia felt some annoyance that she now had easy control over the creature given that things had calmed down. She’d have to work on stress training with controlling elementals at a later time… But she had been aware of the challenges when she’d decided to study Arcane magicks versus Frost or Fire.

 

Atalia felt the need to try to hike back to the flight point to try to cover up what had happened, and not teleport back… She considered teleporting back, but it might raise questions as to first why she’d teleported and then immediately once she was limping, she knew that it’d raise an alarm. Hiking might give her a chance to recover some. But, soon it became apparent that she wouldn’t be able to carry everything that she had carried up to the campsite back to the flight location she had hiked from, at least not with her injuries. The fresh urge to cry came over her, but she fought it back and determinedly pushed it away and ground her teeth, ignoring the pain as she tightly began to bind up her bedroll, rolling it up snugly. She managed to sling it on her sore back, her two bags, and her kettle she picked up before she lifted the final bag of herbs. She considered having Ma’yat carry the rest, but she wanted him burden-free incase he was needed. The weight pressed down on her and irritated her groin, but she ignored it as she began to walk off in the direction of where her dagger had been thrown. Atalia was leaving behind her tent, flint, a pot, and a small chair back at the campsite. She could always replace the items that she chose to leave.

 

She then wound up joining her companion in looking for her dagger. After a good twenty minutes of searching grasses and rocks she finally found the dagger. It was wedged blade-into-ground behind a small bush of Fjarnskaggl. She frowned as she knew that it would take a long time or magical intervention to get the smell of the unpleasant and fragrant plant off the hilt of the thing, now… But she was glad to have her dagger back. As she called out for Ma’yat to come back, they finally began to hike back down towards where the flight point was. By this time the sun was already up, although not too far above the horizon. She began to comb through her hair with her hands and straighten her clothes best she could without a mirror.

 

The hike was tough while able-bodied, and dodging sharp jagged rocks, moving around large boulders in the path, and avoiding foliage in the way made the way even more arduous as walking was excruciating to Atalia at the moment especially while burdened so. She was trying to be careful but she managed to trip over a rock while walking and nearly fell, but Ma’yat caught her.

 

Her hands had flown to instinctively cover her face and torso, and the elemental was holding her arms. It gently set her back upright and she quietly said, “Thank you…” It indifferently chimed in return.

 

As she continued down the path pain soon began to come to her arms, shoulders, and her back, too. She suspected that being bound in such a position for so long had affected her, despite not being truly alive. Her muscles might not grow, but the ligaments could still grow stiff or overstretched… Atalia finally wound up asking Ma’yat to carry her larger bags, kettle, and bedroll, leaving her carrying her herbs. Eventually the pain was becoming too much for her, and she had to take a break and so she sat down on a large boulder and she couldn’t help herself from crying again.

 

The young Forsaken woman was wracked with dry sobs, her tears having finally mostly dried up by this point, and that only made her cry harder for a moment. She gave herself only perhaps ten minutes to rest before she set off limping down the mountain again… Then they were to set off  _up_  another mountain and she cursed loudly…  A large cliff curved around it, and she needed to go around the cliff and then there would finally be a footpath, but this mountain was even taller than the one she had just climbed down. As she began to climb up the sun was slowly slinking up the sky…

 

It was perhaps just before noon when she spotted a figure rounding the top of the cliff and heading down and towards her. She froze as she studied it… Her eyes weren’t very sharp compared to some races, but the figure had purplish skin… and no horns… It was clearly a Night Elf then, and given the slim shape, a female. She was wearing light colored robes and Atalia slumped down to the ground in a mix of fear and relief as she noticed it. She had to be a priest, perhaps she could ask for healing? But maybe the Alliance member would see an undead creature and decide to put her out of her misery… At this point she would welcome either equally. Elves were particularly unnerved by her kind, so she contemplated trying to hide, but as she frantically glanced around, there was clearly no place to hide.

 

When she went to glance back upwards she saw the elf alert and she’d raised her staff. She was beginning to hurry her pace down the mountainside. Atalia realized that she was now probably in danger from the likely-priest. She didn’t order Ma’yat to attack though, and told him, “Stay back unless I’m actually hit by something or you see a spell.” It chimed in acknowledgement.

 

By the time the elf was in range Atalia was trembling and trying not to cry again. The Forsaken already felt utter defeat at her situation, and her body was aching and sore, her soul in pieces… The elf looked alarmed and ready to pounce on her. Atalia considered just dismissing Ma’yat, but some part of her still desired to keep pushing through… Her teacher was expecting her back after all. He’d be so worried if she never returned after going out to simply gather herbs and enjoy nature for a few days! The Night Elf slowed her approach and lowered her staff cautiously as she realized that Atalia was not sending her elemental in her direction or attacking her with any sort of spell… and she was still sitting on the ground. Carefully she walked down towards the Forsaken, eyeing the clearly younger girl with suspicion.

 

When she got nearer, the elf noticed the Forsaken’s somewhat disheveled state. Her hair was messy, despite it looking to be clean and long and soft- unlike most undead, and there were dark blue-green marks ringed around her wrists. Her cloak was somewhat dirty and hanging open slightly, its buttons torn off. She appeared nearly on the verge of tears watching the older woman approach her and Kenterray noted that her chest armor was sliding off her shoulder slightly, where she saw more blue-green dots marring the light bluish white flesh where it met her neck. Clearly she’d been attacked… The younger girl seemed to notice that her chest was visible and immediately pulled her cloak tightly closed to cover up everything but her arms.

 

“Are you alright?” the elf asked after the two were staring silently at one another for several minutes.

 

Atalia struggled to her feet, making the other woman raise her staff cautiously, but the undead girl finally replied after a moment with her own question, “Could you Heal me?”

 

Kenterray studied the girl carefully, concerned slightly. She was not only Horde, but an undead… Yet, she was aware the Light was supposed to heal such unfortunate creatures. It looked like perhaps she could have been tortured, but her cloak covered everything except her arms and above her neckline. She weighed her duty to help and to the Light and that this perhaps outweighed her duty to the Alliance, and besides, she was a young child compared to herself, so she acquiesced. Finally she nodded.

 

“Thank you,” the younger woman nearly sobbed, grateful. Atalia dropped the bag of herbs where she stood.

 

“Yes, well, come here, child,” Kenterray replied, gesturing for the girl to come to her. She felt troubled as she noticed a considerable limp, but shook it off. “Let me see your injuries.”

 

“Wh-what?” the girl before her paused a few feet away, frozen in place, her green glowing eyes growing wide. “You can’t just wave a hand over me…?”

 

“...It works best when I can see and touch what I’m healing,” the elf replied somewhat annoyed. “You asked me to heal you, after all… If it’s rotting or missing flesh, don’t be concerned, I’ve been around Forsaken before.” She didn’t mention that she didn’t care to be around them, as they unnerved her deeply… She was also not looking forward to touching the wounds of one…  _ugh, leaking ichor…_

 

“No, it’s not like that...” Atalia replied quietly, she sat upon a boulder behind her and looked up at the elf pleadingly. “I… I mean you said,  _best_ … So it can work if you don’t touch then?”

 

“For internal wounds you heal from the general area, so yes,” Kenterray answered patiently, frowning. The younger girl was looking at the ground and pulled her cloak tighter around herself.

 

“Okay… it’s something like that mostly,” she replied.

 

Kenterray was at first confused. The girl was limping, how could it be anything internal causing that? Then it dawned on her… the pieces to the puzzle… Bruises on her wrists like...she had been bound, maybe even binding of some sort on her neck, or some sort of torture there… The state of her hair and clothing... Disgust on many levels washed over her as she realized what had happened to the girl. The elf felt horror that someone would actually want to  _force_ themselves upon an undead, but even more revulsion and anger that someone would assault the young girl so brutally. She literally was having trouble walking! Kenterray nervously bit her lip as she closed the distance between the two and she said a prayer to Elune before she dared to touch the girl.

 

Gently and warily she touched the girl’s shoulder, making Atalia flinch slightly. “Please, try to be at ease, girl… I won’t hurt you…”

 

The words were enough to send her over the edge and soon the Forsaken girl let a couple tears fall, somehow she managed to find a few more inside her. Kenterray had been alive during many wars, she had seen rape victims, and helped them before, so she let the girl cry and cautiously put an arm around her. Soon she had the girl she hadn’t wanted to even touch even slightly crying into her shoulder. She tried to put her uneasy feelings aside as she ran her fingers through the girl’s extremely soft curly dark red hair… It was so odd for a Forsaken, usually their hair was dirty and clotted with blood and ichor or at least limp and dry or short. She wondered if the girl magically did something to keep it so naturally life-like… Even her scent, she didn’t reek of rot… If anything she smelled of...  _Fjarnskaggl_ and roses… the first being somewhat unpleasant, and pungent. She bit back a smile. There were worse things to smell of.

 

Finally Atalia stifled her crying and sat upright away from the elf. She hadn’t actually shed many tears this time, but it had felt good to cry and be comforted by someone. “I’m sorry… but thank you.”

 

“It’s alright, girl.” Kenterray smiled gently, looking down at the girl’s glowing green eyes. Another odd feature, the elf noticed…  _green._

 

“Atalia,” the girl told her. She was aware elves could live for thousands of years, but after what had happened, it was unnerving to be called  _girl_ .

 

“I’m Kenterray,” the elf nodded. “How about we start by healing your wrists first?”

 

“I didn’t even realize…” A bluish blush formed across the younger girl’s face and she moved her hands to look down at her wrists. Kenterray was surprised that the Forsaken was actually able to blush… It reminded her of a pale Draenei.

 

Swiftly the Night Elf moved a hand over the girl’s wrists while they were out in front of her body and took her other hand and moved it below. She was a bit bothered by just how cool the flesh beneath her skin was, but it was unusually soft and smooth. Somehow she wondered if she had to worry about flakey skin more than the girl before her as she quickly said a prayer to the Light to heal the girl’s wrists before her. Then she smiled kindly at the girl, earning a smile in return.

 

For being undead, she had a sweet smile… It was also nice to see that hadn’t been stolen from her. “Could you take off your cloak so I can see if you have any other bruises?” Kent gestured at her neck, and this elicited another blush from the girl.

 

“Is my neck bruised?” Atalia asked hesitantly, her voice extremely quiet.

 

Kent felt a bit abashed, and smiled weakly in sadness. She wasn’t sure if it was because the undead couldn’t feel sensation as well, or because she simply couldn’t see where the small circle abrasions were… “Yes, there are little bruises that look like stippling of some sort…” She answered.  _What on earth had caused it_ ? She wondered.

 

The answer only made the young girl blush deeper, but she dropped her cloak off her shoulders. The elf saw the stipping-like marks all along her neck, but noticed on the girl’s right shoulder an almost oval set that looked like… a  _bite mark_ from an  _animal_ … “Oh Elune have mercy…”

 

Earlier in the day she had been concerned when an injured Worgen had passed her way and asked if she had directions, or preferably a hearthstone for his use. What had raised her concern more was that it had been  _Genn Greymane_ of all people, out in the middle of Stormheim, blood soiling his iconic dark brown coat, and he had a considerable limp. She had recognized him, despite him being in wolf form, which perhaps some would not have… Kenterray had gladly been willing to let not only an injured ally, but a King who had brought his people to refuge in her home of Teldrassil, merely use her hearth to there. 

 

Now that it was becoming clear, or at least likely, that the poor Forsaken girl before her had been attacked by a Worgen, the Night Elf felt sick to her stomach.  _Well… surely there could be other Worgen out and about in the area…_ she tried to convince herself. In the last few days she had run into other Forsaken, much to their misfortune..

 

“He didn’t break the skin did he?!” Atalia asked, concerned, looking down to her shoulder as the woman beside her fingered the bitemark gently. Unfortunately Atalia couldn’t quite see where he had left his final mark on her, and she furrowed her brow with concern that her skin might now be unhealable.

 

“No, no… But… bite marks,” Kenterray answered slowly, disgusted. “I could tell an animal did this to you, but... “ She trailed off, leaving it unsaid.  _He had been a Worgen, he hadn’t been in his human form…_ Atalia looked down and flinched as the Light once again flooded her body and healed her neck and sore shoulders and back. The sting across her body was odd, but afterwards she felt immense relief finally in her entire upper half and she sighed happily.

 

“Thank you..” she cooed. “I was tied up for hours, that feels so much better.” She finally divulged, rolling her shoulders, now that they were no longer stiff. The elf frowned at her cheery disposition at the situation and then looked over the girl’s upper torso for any more visible wounds and thankfully saw none.

 

“Atalia, you don’t have to remove your pants, but you need to tell me where all you are hurt…” The elf wondered if perhaps maybe she was limping from her legs being tied up, too, but much to her suspicion the girl blushed and shook her head.

 

“It’s only… well… Like I said, sorta internal,” the undead explained nervously.

 

“Okay, let me just place my hand at your lower abdomen then,” Kenterray good-heartedly said. “That should be very effective in… undoing damage.”

 

“Alright,” came the reply as Atalia leaned backwards, exposing her flat and smooth stomach. Kenterray was somewhat surprised overall at the fact that the young Forsaken’s flesh seemed to be intact over-all and showed little to no sign of decomposition. Part of her was deeply surprised that she appeared to be a risen human and not an elf, she’d thought only Sylvanas's rangers were in such good condition. 

 

The elf placed a bare hand upon her stomach, right below her belly-button and then prayed to the Light to Heal the unfortunate creature beside her of the damage done by that… animal of a man… The Light came and shone brighter than it had before and it stung more this time too, making Atalia hiss slightly as she felt it rush through her. Afterwards she felt somewhat heady… her senses all were on edge and sharpened.

 

“How do you feel, Atalia? Are you okay?” Kenterray asked, slightly concerned. Her other hand was now at the young girl’s back, as she almost had fallen off the rock.

 

“Oh… wow… I just got a bit dizzy…” Atalia admitted. “Sorry, Holy powers make me a bit light-headed at times…”

 

The priest smiled at the girl and removed her hand from her stomach. “The concerns of your race I suppose… How are you now, otherwise?”

 

The girl shook her head briefly and quickly assessed herself. The gnawing ache between her legs was now gone, and overall she felt quite well physically… She even had a bit of a feeling of peace and well-being, she guessed at being Healed with Holy powers, but it was comforting nonetheless. “I feel a lot better. I think I can hike back to the flight point now, no problem.”

 

Kenterray bit her lip nervously at the idea of the girl going all the way there alone. “You can’t teleport? You have no hearth?”

 

“Not on me,” Atalia admitted. “I left it back in Dalaran. I uh… I came out here to hike and pick Fjarnskaggl. I didn’t expect to rescue a Worgen and have this entire mess happen. I also don’t know specific teleporting… only certain points. My Dalaran point would bring me right to my teacher’s sanctum, and I don’t want him to think anything is up...” Despite her words the young girl smiled weakly.

 

“Why did you rescue him?” Kenterray asked curiously as the Forsaken finally stood up and stretched.

 

The girl picked up her cloak and put it back on, covering her now ill-fitting chest piece while she replied, “Well, you helped me..” She then turned and began to walk towards the discarded bag of pungent herbs, “I even told him that if I were hurt I’d hope that someone would come to my aid if I needed it, and look, here you are. You didn’t attack me, you actually helped me.”

 

Thoughts ran through Kenterray’s head, she had probably helped the girl’s attacker, too… Elune bless the poor child. Had she dared to tell him such a thing before or after he committed such an atrocity to her? Finally the guilt of her knowledge made her speak, “You can use my Dalaran hearthstone if it helps.”

 

“Really? Oh Light that’s sweet! I just want to get home… maybe I should just teleport.” Atalia turned to her and smiled, slinging the bag of herbs onto her back.

 

“You… you should tell someone at the Kirin Tor guard what happened,” Kenterray reluctantly said as Atalia approached the elf again.

 

The undead girl froze in her tracks and stared at the elder woman in horror at the idea. The Worgen’s words of wanting her to tell ‘her queen’, echoed in her mind for a moment and she frowned. “I… I really don’t think anyone would even believe me.”

 

Kenterray looked the girl evenly in the eyed and told her, “Even a king is not beyond reproach in such a heinous crime, Atalia. Such figures should set examples… I would be more than happy to offer my word that I saw him in the area. I could corroborate your story.”

 

The words felt like a punch to her gut. “K-king?” Atalia squeaked out, shocked. At hearing what the elf said, she felt sick to her stomach. Some of it made more disgusting sense to her. Why he had urged her to take the news of what he had done personally to Sylvanas herself, the Banshee Queen had killed his son in Gilneas… Recently she was aware the Warchief was blamed for Varian’s death, too, but she honestly did not know the truth herself. The only thing Atalia really knew of the disagreements between the factions as of late were rumors she would hear in the spare moments she might go to the taverns in Dalaran.

 

Worry crossed the Night Elf’s face as she realized that the girl must not have recognized her attacker in his Worgen form, but it wasn’t extremely uncommon she was sure. The coward hadn’t even identified himself in the hours he had held her though, and it bothered her. She was quite aware of what the Forsaken had done to Gilneas, unleashing scourge upon their now broken city-state…  _Had it been all an act of revenge?_ She wondered if the girl was perhaps part of the offensive that was located nearby, but dismissed it. She was a  _mage_ , she had mentioned Dalaran as home…

 

“I… I am aware that there is fighting between Gilneans and Forsaken right now, but,” the elf paused, trying to word herself carefully. “What happened to you was past warfare… You should consider reporting to the Kirin Tor…”

 

This only made Atalia laugh bitterly. “I have to work with those people…” she shook her head. “Do you know how chatty mages and magical folk are?”

 

The older woman had lived many, many years, so yes, she had met some along the way. She had become somewhat aware of the propensity of Mages to develop a bit of a habit for gossip, though it was usually not out of malice and usually about some new and exciting spell or discovery… The point was not lost on her, though. “Well… If you should ever change your mind… It will take time for that to heal. You one day may decide to speak up, and my offer still will stand.”

 

“Thank you for everything, Kenterray,” the girl nodded her head forward slightly.

 

“Ah… before I let you go anywhere, let me fix your hair,” the elf motioned for her to sit down while she sat up straight and took a comb out from the small pouch at her side. A slight blush crossed the girl’s features at the comment, but she sat down and let her hair be combed out. Soon it was once in order again, just as soft as elf’s own hair. “Now, you look just fine.”

 

“Thank you again,” Atalia smiled as she turned to face the Night Elf. “Um, I have a question for you… What would you think if an acolyte came home early from gathering herbs? And missing a lot of supplies?”

 

“Well, it would depend on if there was a reasonable answer to go with it. I would expect at least some sort of explanation unfortunately,” came the careful answer with a gentle smile.

 

“Well, I finished my herb gathering early… I suppose I could just explain that I was attacked and leave it at that,” Atalia smiled. “I don’t have to go into details… I just… I don’t relish the idea of keeping such things from my teacher.”

 

“Although I urge you to seek justice, you should only do so if you feel comfortable enough to,” Kent smiled gently. “And I hope that one day you will feel so… I do not mean to pressure you, but… I wonder if perhaps in such an act you would be the sole victim.”

 

The younger woman felt slightly sick at the idea, but the things that the Worgen had said to her made her have doubts that he might ever even be able to lay a finger upon another undead unless it was to tear them apart. “With some of the comments that he made about the Forsaken, I’m not sure he’d even be able to even shake the hand of one of us.”

 

“Well, you are unusually… pretty for one of your people,” the elf replied. She shook her head and then looked the other girl over. “Actually you are simply attractive for a human… That you’re undead is the unusual part… I just… may I ask how…? I thought only the rangers of the Dark Lady looked like you do…”

 

“Oh…” Atalia looked off into the distance. “It’s a long story in all, but, after I died my body was preserved magically is the gist of it… But, even having been preserved, some are given new life shortly after death and they wither easily because they take no care over themselves. I do. It’s really not difficult.”

 

“I see, well,” Kenterray nodded, “That makes sense… Well, Atalia, also, if you’re teacher does show concern for you over showing up early and without your belongings… Maybe consider telling the truth… I’ve been a teacher before, I am sure that you can trust them.”

 

“My teacher is… well, he’s a male… And it’s complicated. He’d probably want to report what happened, too,” Atalia finally returned her gaze back to meet the Night Elf.

 

“Well, if you wind up consoling in him, tell him what I told you, that you need to wait until you yourself feel comfortable with seeking out justice…” Kenterray’s eyes narrowed slightly as she added, “But do consider, perhaps not your race, but someone with enough anger to do something so vile and so violent might perpetuate such an act again… Especially if they know they can get away with it.”

 

“I suppose I will just teleport back after all… even if it raises questions… Thank you Kenterray.” The Forsaken then stood up. “Ma’yat! Come on, we’re going!” The elemental made a noise and came over to where the two women were. The elf also stood and nodded and smiled as the girl spoke. “Thank you again… again.” The undead then put her hands in front of her and motioned out runes in the air, “Dalaran ‘al ‘Violet.” 

 

In an instant a shimmering portal sizzled into realization limned with a bluish glow. It was large, tall enough for the elemental to pass through, and on the other side was what looked like a large library filled with countless books and many tables covered with many papers, all overcast in purple glow. The Forsaken waved a silent goodbye as she walked thru the portal followed by her summoned creature and then it winked out of existence.

 

Now the elf was alone in Stormheim… with only her Dalaran hearthstone. She’d given her other one to Greymane after all, thinking him some poor wounded victim of a Forsaken attack, not an attacker. She had come out here planning to go back home immediately tomorrow, but now she’d have to go thru Dalaran and use a portal home from there. But, she had had no idea about the increased Forsaken activity until she had passed through the area and found several hostile ones over the past couple days… She just hoped after this last encounter she wouldn’t wind up in another battle to the death against the Horde members as she had been forced to kill one already and leave another she assumed gravely injured. Oh well… She’d just have to hoof it for now and hope she wouldn’t come across any more so hostile. If only they could all be so kind as the last she had run into.

 

~-.-~-.-~-.-~-.~-.-~-.~-.-~-.-~-.-~-.~-.-~-.~-.-~-.-~-.-~-.~-.-~-.-~

  
  


Now, proof that Genn Greymane really hates Forsaken… in response to seeing Alonsus Faol in person, as a Forsaken. An excerpt from Before the Storm. 

 

“You’ve gone too far, Anduin Wrynn,” Greymann snarled. “How dare you bring this  _thing_ into the Cathedral of Light! You’re chasing this distorted ideal of what peace really is. And now you’ve that here.”

His voice shook. “Alonsus Faol was my friend. He was Turalyon’s friend. We’d accepted that he was gone. He was buried at Faol’s Rest. Why are you  _doing_ this to us?”

Anduin didn’t flinch. He had been expecting this reaction. When he got no response, Greymane turned on the source of his loathing.

“Have you got the boy under some sort of spell, wretch?” he bellowed. “I know that there are priests who can do that sort of thing. Let Anduin go, get out of here, and I will not rip that putrid corpse of yours to shreds.

“You chose this… this shambling existence. You chose to be this creature of nightmares. And you  _have_ to know what’s happened to me. To my people. What yours did to me and how much I loathe what you’ve become. If you had any decency, any respect for those you once called friends, you’d have hurled yourself into the fire during your first Hallow’s End and spared us all this!”

……..

…….. “I do so because you are a monstrosity! Because your people are an abomination and should  _never_ have been created!”

 

\----From Before the Storm. It is a fantastic book! Really, really, you should check it out! I got an awesome signed copy *heart* I love it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags: Worgen, OC, Khadgar, Genn Greymane, moar to come.  
> very graphic-so you're warned.


End file.
